


Behind Closed Doors

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 14 Inspired [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bickering, Castiel (Supernatural) Drives, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Coda, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Grief/Mourning, Happiness as a concept, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Oblivious Sam Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Pi Day, Pie and Ice Cream, Post-Episode: s14e15 Peace of Mind, Sam Winchester has Realizations, Sam and Jack discuss Dean and Cas, Season/Series 14, Snarky Castiel (Supernatural), Soulless Jack Kline, Thoughtful Sam, Traumatized Sam Winchester, WWWD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 10:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Distractions. Sam needed distractions. If he was learning how to be comfortable in the Bunker again, he needed something that could keep the ghosts of his friends and teammates away. Dean and Cas drop the perfect one into his lap. Will it work, keep him tethered to a place he wants to call home. Or, as someone told him, is there no chance for his happiness - the price he pays by being a Winchester.Coda to 14x15 "Peace of Mind"





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! The last coda I was working on for this episode (took me forever!) Went through some edits, added things I wanted to explore, messed with time and character intentions (I was going to have Cas and Dean go to bed together but realized that's too many of the same tropes in fics close together lol)
> 
> Once more we focus on Sam - but this time from his POV!! (A great place to be honestly) I hope y'all enjoy!!

            Sam stayed in the Bunker. It wasn’t easy, and there were times he wanted to leave. When Maggie and all the others’ ghosts struck him fiercely in their haunts, and he came to with tablet in one hand and keys in the other. Then he’d think of his family, of Dean and all the bags under his eyes. He made it all the way up the steps only to walk back down with his head hung in exhaustion.

            The fifth time that happened, Sam figured a change in scenery might help. Not in the way his body craved, sun in his face and miles away. He opted for somewhere closer, where they were lucky Michael found no one to kill.

            Surprisingly, the kitchen had been empty during his rampage. After the main room, it was the second hub where people gathered to talk and enjoy themselves. Cooking ten helpings of a regular meal, clinking glasses together to toast a hunt well done. Dean claimed the kitchen as his the second they found the Bunker, and after coming back from Michael was thrown off by the activity within. The learning curve on sharing was a harsh one, but Dean understood in the end. Now, even Sam could tell Dean missed it. He moved like he was accounting for others to be doing the same around him, as if he wasn’t the only cook left.

            Jack was there at the sink washing out a plastic container. Next to him there were a few more, each laid out and drying. Sam paused, unsure whether to disturb him. He waited too long. Jack finished and turned, catching Sam in the opening. Smiling, he placed the dishtowel down. “Sam,” he greeted, “how are you?”

            “I’m – uh…” Sam waved his tablet, “I’m reading.” Walking into the room, he glanced at the rows of Tupperware. “What’s all this?”

            Jack followed his stare. “Oh, I was cleaning these out for Dean. I was using them to hold different foods for Felix –“

            “Felix,” Sam said, “your snake right?”

            “ _Noah’s_ snake.”

            Sam frowned, “The Gorgon? Well, yeah it was – but he’s yours now.”

            Jack kept smiling, focused on all the drying containers; stare locked on the largest one. “He wasn’t mine, really. He wasn’t _happy_. But I think he’s happier now, where he is…”

            Sam’s brows rose to meet his hairline; thoughts whirring, trying to understand what Jack meant. Before he could ask though, a loud clatter sounded from the other side. They directed their attention back towards where Sam was, where Dean and Cas now stand.

            His brother and his angel friend met their questioning looks with easy grins, Dean’s wider than Cas’s. They walked forward, shoulders brushing with every step. Sam bet that their hands would have, too, if Dean’s weren’t occupied with a familiar-sized box.

            “Hey,” Dean said, “Family meeting?”

            Sam shook his head. “No, I just got here a few minutes ago.”

            “I was busy cleaning,” Jack told them, “Dean, you’ll be happy to see that all of your containers are now free for use again.”

            Dean deposited the box on the counter. “Really? So, what did Felix end up liking?”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Jack said, “Felix wouldn’t have ate because he was unhappy. So I made him happy.” His simple shrug unsettled Sam, as well as Cas. He noticed how he stiffened when Dean brought up the snake, and unusual sight when in the presence of his brother. His wide eyes met Sam’s from across the counter for a brief moment, but then they ducked back to the box, dragging it over to unravel the twine. Dean hadn’t noticed, instead repeating his brother's earlier expression. The question hanging around the snake goes unanswered, again, as Jack moved the conversation along to ask what Dean and Cas were doing.

            The easy set of his features returned as Dean described what happened. “So _apparently_ while we were all doing… _everything_ , a little day went by without me noticing. Luckily Cas here reminded me and we went out and remedied the situation.”

            “What day are you talking about?”

            Cas opened the box to show the others what was inside – a golden, flaky, and steaming pie. “ _Pie day_ ,” Dean practically moaned.

            Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, it’s not about _pies_ , it’s about the math term. March 14th? Three-point-one-four –“

            “No math,” Dean cut him off with a weak glare, “you’ll only ruin its taste.” He slid the box over to him, his hands resting over Cas’s until the angel pulled away. It was a delayed response, the digits twitching before ultimately coming to rest under the table. Sam’s hackles rose.

            “I doubt explaining mathematical concepts will affect the pie’s tastes, Dean,” Jack said, his voice covered in the thinnest layer of confusion.

            Cas sighed. “It was a figure of speech, Jack. An irrational response since pie tends to make Dean go… crazy.”

            Dean snorted. “Not the only thing that does that…” he muttered under breath, his soft gaze at Cas very obvious to anyone watching like Sam was. “Although I was a little… _excited_ –“

            “Excited?” Cas huffed, “If I weren’t driving we’d have ended up in an _accident_. Although maybe that’s what you were looking for with how you acted –“

            “Hey, your car could go faster than what you had her doing! I was only helping you get there –“

            “Pushing on my leg wasn’t _helping_ ,” the finger quotes made Dean snicker. “Besides,” he added, smirking, “Not like you could have actually _force_ my foot down any harder onto the pedal.”

            Dean scowled at him. “You sped up a coupl’a times.”

            “Maybe I wanted to go faster?” Cas shrugged, stealing the pie back and walking around the counter towards the cutlery. “And was only humoring you by doing it when you pressed.”

            His comment caused Dean to gasp, flailing a hand over his chest. “I can’t believe!” he cried mockingly, “Cas? How low… and with the very car I _gifted_ you? The hours I spent fixing it, painting it a color you’d like –“

            “Yes well,” Cas interrupted his routine with a slam of a drawer, “maybe you can do more for me and get plates out?”

            “I don’t need a plate, Cas –“

            “ _Plates_.”

            Dean submitted, moving over to the cupboards on the other end of the kitchen counter. “Fine,” he sighed, “Sam, Jack – you want a slice?”

            Sam, too stunned by the exchange, said nothing. Jack declined, picking up a nearby book and moving over to the table across the room. While Dean and Cas worked, Sam left them as well to join Jack. While he engrossed himself in his book, Sam pretended to do the same with his tablet. However his eyes and mind were stuck on the other two men in the room.

            They returned to the counter, the pie unboxed. Surprisingly, Dean held two plates in hand. Sam watched Cas cut two slices out for Dean and himself. He didn’t know which was stranger – his brother willingly sharing pie or Cas having some for Dean’s sake. They all knew that food and angels were not on friendly terms. Still, Cas managed a thin slice onto the second plate. Dean made up for Cas’s portioning by slamming a large scoop of ice cream down next to it. He must have dug it out when Sam wasn’t looking.

            “Dean that’s far too much!”

            “C’mon, it brings out the _flavor_.”

            “I couldn’t really taste it to begin with.”

            “Then you need all the help you can get.”

            “I’m perfectly fine with – _Dean!_ ”

            Dean swiped a dollop of ice cream onto Cas’s nose, grinning all the while. Cas’s eyes crossed to try and see it. The vanilla melted almost instantly under his intense focus. “ _Dean_ ,” Cas repeated, voice tinged with the usual bitter honey he coats his brother’s name in. The sweetness always came with a little bite, where Sam believed Cas infused a little of his grace into it – to reach that certain pitch on the gravel.

            Dean sighed, but cleaned him off with the very same finger that committed the crime. Then, he sucked it off. Maintaining eye contact with Cas the entire time. Sam blushed as he popped it out from behind his lips, like he saw something he shouldn’t.

            Which he might have? Dean and Cas near constantly kept conversations between themselves, Sam always getting snippets either at the tail end when their fire slowly returned to a simmer or relied on his understanding of Dean’s facial cues. Their relationship confused him, especially when they acted like this. Like they kept a secret in their smiles, only for the other to see. Like sometimes they could kill each other in one second and then never want to think of the possibility that harm could come their way.

            Like Justin and Cindy were _supposed_ to be if it wasn’t ripped from the past and forced onto unsuspecting people.

            Sam’s heart skipped a beat, the connection that his brain rattled off immediately frying the entire system. At first he tried course correcting, that there were no similarities between his brother, his friend, and a married couple. He must have drawn the wrong conclusions.

            But was he wrong, given all that he’s seen? Dean and Cas converse in their own language, one seeped in subtext that Sam never had the time to analyze. He still doesn’t, except with how they’re acting now there’s no other way to read. It took half a second to name the emotion humming under each careful touch. _Love_.

            They wrapped up meal prep, Cas putting the desserts away. Dean carried his pie over to their table, and Sam busied himself with the tablet. Clicking blindly, he was glad to land on an app that made him look like he wasn’t spying. It was very obvious, his shock barely hiding his reactions. Luckily Dean and Cas were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

            Dean ruffled Jack’s hair, drawing him away from his book. Sam pretended to be put out by his interruption. “I know you two nerds don’t want pie, but me ‘n’ Cas are gonna put on some flicks, we’re doing it roulette style so who knows what we’ll land on,” he turned to Sam, “it’ll be _fun_ , getting out of our heads and shutting that shit off for awhile.”

            Cas joined them with his own plate in hand, slotting into the space next to Dean so only their shoulders touched. It felt right, seeing them together. The longer his realization stuck the better he seemed about it. So Sam shook his head and waved his tablet at them. “Sorry, but I’m already having my own _fun_.”

            “You sure?”

            “ _Yes_.”

            Shrugging, he moved onto Jack. “What about you? If you want you can even let the snake watch – but I better not see it slither _anywhere_!”

            Jack smiled and declined as well. “And don’t worry, Dean, the snake won’t be a problem anymore.”

            Sam’s nerves stung like they did earlier, back when Jack made a similar comment. Cas must have installed the same alarm system Sam had, as his spine stood as straight as his. Dean let the words fall to the side, the only signs he heard it being the odd tilt of his head and squint that was better suited for Cas.

            He opened his mouth, as if to ask Jack to clarify. Cas stopped him, tugging at his sleeve. “C’mon,” he said, “We don’t have a lot of time to enjoy our meal before the ice cream melts…”

            “That’d be _criminal_ ,” Dean chuckled, Jack's warning forgotten. “All right, we’ll be in the Cave if you need us. Don’t do _that_ unless it’s necessary.” He led them out, his hands placed possessively around his favorite things – one on his plate of pie and the other Cas’s shoulder.

            Sam waited until they were a good ways away, then pushed his tablet to the side. He reached across for Jack’s book and laid it on top of his device. “Hey,” Jack said, “I was reading that.”

            “Can I ask you something?”

            Jack leaned his head to the right. “Of course.”

            “What do you think of Dean and Cas?”

            Jack frowned. “What do I think?” he parroted, “Well, Dean is very funny and kind… he’s been checking in on me when he can, even though I know he’s been tired. And Cas is loyal, always willing to go the extra mile to make me more comfortable. Both of them have been a little… _much_ recently, but it comes from a good place –“

            “No, no,” Sam said, “What do you think about… _them_.”

            “I – I don’t think I understand your question?”

            “ _Them_ ,” he stressed, again, “Y’know… _Dean_ and _Cas_. Them…” he threaded his fingers together. “ _Together_.”

            “Together… oh!” he said, “You’re asking me about the relationship between Dean and Cas.”

            “So there is one?”

            “No,” Jack told him, “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

            Sam screwed his eyebrows together in confusion. “Are you sure?” he asked, “I mean, they were acting like a married couple.”

            “Yes, I’ve observed their actions around each other, their behaviors. Dean and Cas match everything that I’ve learned when it comes to love and commitment and ‘good relationships’,” his air quotes reminded Sam so much of Cas, he nearly rolled his eyes, “Except if you were to ask, I’m sure they wouldn’t admit to being one.”

            Sam sprung back, shocked. “What – are you serious? Have you… have you asked?”

            “No,” Jack said, “I just… _know_.”

            “You do?”

            “Maybe it’s because of my powers,” Jack shrugged, “Or it’s something leftover from Michael I can’t really explain… I do, though.”

            He ran a hand through his hair, mulling over Jack’s words. “They’re not together but… but there’s _something_ there, right.”

            “Well I would think that’s obvious, even without my powers.”

            “I mean, yeah…”

            Jack blinked his doe-like eyes at Sam. “It’s not a bad thing, right?”

            “No! No, it’s… it’s unexpected,” Sam explained, “I mean, not _really_ that unexpected. I’ll admit I had _some_ suspicion but…”

            “But what?”

            “Well, when Cas… _died_ , the day you were born, Dean was _devastated_ ,” he said, “Unlike anytime I’ve seen him before, even different then after all the other ways we lost Cas over the years.”

            “I remember that,” Jack nodded, “Dean was… not the best to be around.”

            “Understatement,” Sam scoffed, “Anyway I had inklings that maybe there was something… _more_ than friendly feelings. But when he came back Dean did… well, he didn’t do what I thought a Dean in love would do. I mean they hugged, and Dean smiled and was _excited_ for life and… there wasn’t a kiss. Figured I let my imagination run wild because of Dean’s grief. Because there was no grand change in their relationship – no _cosmic shift_.”

            “…Should there have been?”

            It was a simple question, but it struck at the core of Sam’s understanding of his brother. He repeated the question to himself, searching the wood grains in the table underneath him. They weren’t found there, instead hidden within the memories he peeled back to study.

            Dean put on airs, puffed his chest bigger than it was. He acted like the overconfident flirt, with a cocky attitude and devil-may-care attitude. It was all a trap he wanted others to fall for, so as to not see what was slumbering underneath. His bravado nothing more than smoke and mirrors that Sam, once more, fell for.

            There wouldn’t have been any grand gestures. When Dean cared, he showed it in ways you wouldn’t notice unless you really looked at it. Smothered down the intense feeling behind simple actions, blowing it off as if what he did meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Like his feelings weren’t a big deal.

            And seeing how Cas learned everything about humanity from his brother, Sam knew his friend was the same.

            They showed their love in different ways. Dean opened himself up to Cas. And Cas stayed with Dean. To them, those were the same as moving mountains and bottling sunshine.

            “No,” Sam said, smiling once more, “Not for them.”

            “I agree,” Jack told him, “Their pace might be maddening for some, but the gradualness of it seems fine for both of them.” He stood, then, shrugging. “Although they may never reach the tipping point, how they do things.”

            “What do you mean?” An icicle plunged from above and into his heart at Jack’s apathetic phrasing. “Don’t you want them together? Don’t _they_ want to be with each other?”

            “Well of course,” Jack said, “It’s nice what they have now, but it’ll never be anything more. They won’t let themselves have anything more. When it comes down to it, we’re Winchesters. The needs of others matter more than what we _want_. We’ll always be pushing our happiness away so others can enjoy it. Always doing what’s best for others when they have no power to.”

            Sam deflated at Jack’s somber message, his barbed comments stinging. Jack stared at Sam, a knowing look to his eye that tickled his hunter’s instincts. The irritation stayed with him, even as Jack left. “I’m going to finish this in my room,” he said, “Goodbye Sam.”

            The loneliness weighed on him, more than ever in that moment. Jack’s words played on repeat, causing Sam to spiral within. At his lowest, a lone voice broke though the pessimistic mission statement of his family. It wasn’t Dean’s or Cas’s, Jack’s, even Sam’s.

            It was Maggie’s. “Sam!”

            He startled, whirling around, trying to find her. He only realized, seconds later, where her voice came from. Swallowing the thick chord of nerves that lodged in his throat, Sam shuddered.

            Staying in the Bunker would help. It’s his home; he won’t let it be taken from him.

            Still, Sam pulled his phone out and dialed for Mary. “Hey mom,” he said, “What’s up? Nothing really… …Why am I calling? Well I wanted to see if you needed any help on a hunt. …Resting? Sure, I had my fill but…” Sam glanced at where Jack left, “but I don’t really have the luxury of resting. Other people need me, now more than ever.” Sam listened as Mary sighed over the line. She drew the conversation out longer, checking to make sure he was committed to helping. Ultimately, she relayed the information to him.

            He hung up; assuring her he’d be on the road in fifteen. It didn’t take long for him to gather his things. The real delay came from debating how to tell Dean. Sam settled on a note, left out on the counter for anyone to find.

            His brother would be angry. Dean would call and text, clipped things where the annoyance was clear as the sun on a cloudless day. But he’d understand.

            Because Sam stayed in the Bunker. He stayed for as long as he could. It wasn’t easy, with ghosts all around. His time was better spent helping the ones that could move on.

**Author's Note:**

> What. Do. You. Think?!? I loved it, I felt I really captured a lot of the things that happened in the episode and explored them well. Who knows, maybe this means I'll post my codas further into the week rather than immediately after the episode?!?
> 
> Either way, drop a kudos/comment to let me know what you thought!


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